


POSE

by julesbeauchamp



Category: Outlander
Genre: Claire Beauchamp - Freeform, F/M, Fashion Week, Four parts, Jamie Fraser - Freeform, Model AU, Model!Claire, Modern AU, Outlander - Freeform, Photographer!Jamie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-19 22:19:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17610077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesbeauchamp/pseuds/julesbeauchamp
Summary: Fashion month is always a little bit chaotic. Early mornings. Late nights. Parties. Noise. People. Too many people. Claire Beauchamp knows it all. After almost four years working as a model, she’s even used to it. It’s almost a routine. Until she meets James Fraser, a photographer. And time slows down for just a minute in the midst of madness.





	1. New York

**Author's Note:**

> A wee new four parts story about Model!Claire and Photographer!Jamie crossing path during Fashion month. 
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think <3

Every year, during five days, New York City was taken over by people from the fashion industry.  _Editors. Models. Designers. Wannabes._ Everyone paraded around the city in fancy attire. Running from show to presentations and cocktails parties for fashion week. **  
**

Claire Beauchamp had been a model for four years. She knew fashion week season. Its castings, its crazy schedule and its extravagant parties like the back of her hand. Scouted during a shopping day in Carnaby Street at the age of twenty, she started a little career in London until her reputation exploded one year ago, after getting hired for a St. Laurent campaign.  Since then, she became  _“the girl”  – s_ een walking at every show and gracing every major magazine cover.

When all the other girls had straight hair. She had crazy curls. When all the other girls had blue eyes. She had the most enchanting ones made of glazed honey and touch of gold. The other girls looked all the same. Claire had a unique beauty. A face something between a classical renaissance beauty from Botticelli and a contemporary one by John Currin.

It was the last day of NYFW. Shows were over and everyone was already taking off to London.  Claire was already exhausted but she had a shoot booked with Vogue before she could fly to the city. It wasn’t the kind of job to cancel to take naps, instead.

Milk Studio was ten minutes away from her apartment, yet, she somehow managed to waste time petting the bodega cat while getting her coffee. And now, she was late.  

“Ye’re late,” Came from a Scottish voice the second she stepped foot in the studio.

Claire turned around and saw him. Tall _– very tall_. Hair the colour of fire and eyes as blue as the sea. He was the kind of man women looked twice when they passed him in the street.

“I am sorry,” She said sincerely, taking off her jacket.

“I could tell you lies about traffic but I was actually smitten by the bodega cat and spent way too long talking to it. That’s why I’m late,” Her confession made the stern expression on his face disappear and turning into an amused smiled.

“Aye, weel, I’m glad you’re honest abou’ it at least,” Grinning, he crossed his arms and leaned against a table.  “It’s only been fifteen minutes, I think I can forgive ye – ”

“Are you one of the models?” Claire grinned, watching him. She had an odd urge to take the piss out of him, “I didn’t know this was a group thing.”

“Och no, I’m James Fraser,” He walked over to her. She remarked he carried himself with insurance, trying to hide some shyness.  _It was sweet._

“The photographer,” He pointed to the cameras on the table.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie,” Claire held out her hand for him to shake but he instead brought it to his lips and place a kiss on it.

“I see Scots have manners,” Her mouth curled up into a smirk. She hoped her cheeks weren’t turning too crimson.

“Aye, we do, Sassenach,” Jamie winked. _Or tried to._ It was an odd blinking of both eyes at the same time as if he had wanted to sneeze. She had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh at how cute that was.  

“I’m Claire –”

“Beauchamp,” He finished before she could.

“Aye, I’ve never had the pleasure of photographing ye but ye’re the face to ken aroun’ here.”  

Claire looked at him amused, “Good to know. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll go get ready so we can start.”

“Do that, I’ll be waitin’ for ye,” Jamie smiled and watched her as she went and said hello to everyone on set. He was used to working with models but there was something different about Claire Beauchamp. He didn’t know what  _exactly_  but he wasn’t surprised she was so successful in the field.  _She was magnetic._ Everyone seemed to stop to look at her whichever room she walked in.

Claire appeared twenty minutes later, makeup done and dressed with the first look. Her hair was down, unruly curls free to frame her face perfectly and the makeup was minimal – pink cheeks and glowy skin.

Jamie watched her, forgetting his task for a second, “Ye look verra bonny, Claire.”

“You can thank Yves Saint Laurent for that,” Claire grinned, turning to display the outfit. It was an iconic tuxedo from the 70s. Jacket low cut and closed in the front, without anything under it. Jamie could see the curve of her breast but quickly looked away. She had wide legged matching trousers and a pair of converse, giving the entire look a modern and relaxed edge.

“This suit is an actual dream. No wonder it was a scandal when it first appeared.”

Jamie nodded and smiled, wanting to say she was the actual dream, “Aye, a dream. I think the outfit and the picture by Helmut Newton were a good combo for it to be a scandal,” He remarked, going to the table to grab a camera.

“I love that picture,” She smiled, watching him. “So powerful. Do you like Helmut Newton?”

“Aye, verra much,” Jamie examined his cameras before picking up one and looking at Claire, “A pioneer in the field.”

“Right,” Claire smirked, “So? What would you like me to do? Just stand before the background?”

“Eh yes, I trust ye ken how to pose aye?” Jamie raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“I should be alright there, thank you,” Claire grinning, walking on her mark as Fergus, the photography assistant, turned on the playlist.

“I’ll do some digital tests before we can start shooting with the film camera,” Jamie announced, taking the camera off Fergus’ hands, “Just do yer thing, aye? Good models don’t need instructions.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Claire flirtatious tone wasn’t lost on him and he prayed he would be able to finish the shoot, even if it hadn’t started yet.

“I like yer look, it’s different than all the models we see aroun’ these days,” He remarked with a smile. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Don’t you like a Brazilian bombshell tanned with straight hair?” Claire couldn’t help but chuckle. “They’re beautiful!”

“Of course they are but it dinna mean they arena borin’. They all look the same, ‘tis get old quite quickly,” Jamie smirked and took a picture of her.

“Okay, so you’re the kind of photographer that takes pictures without warning,” Claire chuckle, “Noted,” She started to move to the music.

It was natural with her. She moved effortlessly and Jamie took picture after picture, without saying a word. Stopping briefly for some hair or makeup touch-ups by Louise or some clothing rearranging by the fashion editor, every few minutes. 

If Jamie had learnt anything during his few years in art school, it was that to take a good photograph, it was essential to fall in love with the person on the other side of the lens. It happened every time he took a portrait but it disappeared as soon as the picture had been taken. Right now, Jamie was falling for Claire.  _Rapidly_.  _Without warning_. Like he never had before. And it wasn’t going anywhere.

Look after look, Claire was a professional who knew how to do her job and who looked absolutely perfect while doing it. It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for each look to be photographed and wrapped. From Gucci to Erdem and even some vintage Chanel, she looked good in everything.

In all his years as a photographer, it was the first time a shoot was going so smoothly.

“Alright, last one sassenach,” Jamie announced happily while handing Fergus the finished roll of film from his camera, “I canna believe this will no’ take the entire day.”

“I like workin’ with ye,” He smiled, changing camera.

Claire walked towards the changing room and turned her head to look at him, grinning, “We work well together, Fraser.”

_Click._

Quickly, Jamie snapped a picture with his point and shoot.

“Aye, we do,” he agreed, watching her disappear behind the door.

He was used to seeing models in all sorts of outfits. From the most bizarre couture gown to the tiniest pair of underwear, and even sometimes, naked. But to him, he was photographing women, not some sort of hanger displaying clothes. Beautiful women, for sure. Yet, he always approached it as painters did. There was nothing sexual about the process. Never had been.

_Until now._

Claire reappeared quickly in a sheer lace Simone Rocha gown and black panties.

Jamie watched her and dropped his roll of film clumsily before picking it up, the tip of his ears turning bright red.

“I don’t know about you but I need a cheeseburger after this shoot,” Claire said with a grin, sitting on a stool. “Care to join me?”

“I will never say no’ to a wee burger date wi’ ye, sassenach,” Jamie grinned. He leaned over his Rolleicord camera, looking at her through the viewfinder.

“No one said it was a date, lad,” Claire leaned her head in her palms and looked right into the lens, her whisky eyes piercing through Jamie like a delightful dagger.

_Click._

Claire laughed, “You need to stop taking pictures of me when I’m not ready!”

_Click._

“They are the best kind,” Jamie smiled,  “Even if I canna show them to ye just now because they’re on film, I ken they’re perfect.”

“I hope you ken well but I want a picture with you,” She insisted.

“Sassenach, I became a photographer so I could avoid being in front of the camera,” He laughed, continuing to take pictures.

“Oh, come on!” She pouted, “Just one and Fergus could take it!”

Grinning, Fergus stepped in and took the Polaroid camera, “Bien sûr!”

“See, Fergus is an angel,” Claire got up and put the stool away, “Now, come to me, Fraser.”

Jamie chuckled, muttering a silent prayer in Gaelic and trying to forget the fact her boobs were on display. She seemed not to be the least bothered about that fact. He went and stood next to her, crossing his arms.

Looking at him, Claire couldn’t help but chuckle, “Are you for real? You do seem very stiff, Jamie.”

“I’m no’ model, Sassenach,” He remarked, eyebrow raised, “I dinna ken how to pose so if ye have a better idea, I’m listenin’.”

Fergus positioned the camera in front of his eyes and smiled widely, “Ready when you are!”

Claire didn’t need to hear more to jump on Jamie’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist and biting his ear.

Jamie took immediately hold of her and laughed, one of those earthy laughs that comes from the pit of your stomach and go right by the heart to make it grow with delight.

_Click._

“Parfait!” Fergus stated with a grin, taking the Polaroid out of the camera.

“While it appears I’ll go change and then we can have our burgers,” Claire smiled and went to get changed quickly.

“What happened to the  _‘I don’t go out with models’ rule?”_  Fergus asked softly, looking at his boss with a sneaky smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not going out wi’ her, we’re just going to get a bite to eat,” Jamie explained, putting the material away.

“I see…Well, I  believe you are a little bit  _amoureux_ , boss,” Fergus said nonchalantly, collecting the rolls of films.

Jamie blinked, looking at him. He had no time to answer as Claire came back. Dressed in her Levi’s 501 and a white t-shirt, bare-faced and curls up into a messy bun.

Putting on her leather jacket, she smiled, “Are we good to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll finish here,” Fergus answered before Jamie could, “Nice meeting you, Claire. Hope you’ll like the pictures.”

“Nice meeting you too,” Claire smiled and hugged him quickly, “I’m sure I will!”

Jamie put on his jacket and took his backpack, “Thank ye, Fergus, dinna forget to bring those films to the lab, aye?”

“Did I ever?” Fergus asked with a grin, knowing perfectly well the answer to his question.

Jamie patted his arm and grinned, walking out of the studio with Claire, “See ye, Claudel!”

“Must I ask?” Claire looked at Jamie with a smirk.

“That’s his real name, ye ken,” Jamie explained,  “Fergus is just his artist nickname, to be cooler. I like to tease him about it.’”

“Ah, I see,” The model smirked, following him outside of the studio.

**********

“Whoever decided to smash a piece of meat between two buns is an actual genius,” Claire said after taking a bite of her burger.

“I dinna wanna start the model who doesna eat cliché but I truly have never seen one eatin’ somethin other than a salad,” Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle as he ate some fries.

“Oh, I know,” Claire shook her head, “I see what the other girls eat during shows or shoots. But I can’t function on two almonds and a granola bar.”

“Do ye work out, then?” Jamie watched her. She was tall and slender. He had seen her body. It wasn’t the sickly skinny kind he saw on some other models. It was toned and curvy. He quickly removed any thought of her arse from his mind and focused on his milkshake.

“I do yoga.  _Occasionally_ ,” She grinned, eating, “I’m really lucky in the metabolism department and I’m always walking – or more running, somewhere.”

“Aye, if ye always spend yer time pettin’ the bodega cat, I bet ye have to run not to be too late,” He teased her, smiling.

Claire laughed, “Exactly! It’s not my fault Gerard is so damn cute –”

“Gerard?” He looked at her, bursting into a laugh, “The cat is actually named Gerard?”

“Yes, I didn’t choose that name though,” She smirked, stealing one of his fries.

Jamie saw it but didn’t say anything and instead smile, “Do ye live in New York then?”

Nodding, Claire smiled, “Yeah, I have been living for two years now. I lived in London before that, for two years as well. Even before that, I was all over the place with my uncle. He’s an archaeologist and I lived with him since I was five.”

“Is he? ‘Tis must be a fascinating job,” His eyes were attracted to hers as if they were magnets. He didn’t try to fight it. Something about Claire Beauchamp made him lose all common sense. He felt as if he had known her forever even if he barely knew any details about her or her life.

“Oh, he is,” Claire smiled fondly, “Uncle Lamb is quite the character.”

“Do ye have siblings?” He leaned back, watching her. 

“No, I’m an only child…My parents had an accident when I was small and that’s why I lived with my uncle since then. He never married nor had kids on his own. It’s always been just me and Lamb,” She smiled. Jamie couldn’t help but feel a ping at his heart hearing her story. There was more to Claire than just meet the eye.

“I’m sorry,” He said sincerely, touching her wrist.

“Thank you,” She smiled, resting her hand on his, “But don’t worry, I’m used by now and I had a great upbringing. Very fun and full of amazing trips.”

“Sounds like it,” He smiled, finishing his drink.

“And do you live in New York?” Claire asked, resting her head in her palm.

“London, I just came up here for a week for the shoot and another one I have in a few days. I’m goin’ back sometime next week actually if nothing comes up in the meantime.”

“You are obviously from Scotland,” She smiled, “The accent and all. Very thick.”

Jamie chuckled, “I canna fault ye there, Sassenach. I’ve been livin’ in London for five years and it seemed that my accent just got thicker for some reason. When ‘tis supposed to be the other way ‘round.”

“Yeah, usually it is,” She smirked, “I know I’ve lost a bit of my own accent since living in New York.”

“Ye mean yer accent was even posher than ‘tis now?” His eyebrow raised and his mouth curled up into a smile.

“ _Wot_? It’s never been posh!”

“It sounds posh to me…Verra sophisticated beyond measure, Sassenach.”

“Well, thank you, I guess?” She smirked, “Also why do you keep calling me Sassenach?”

“‘Tis just means Englishwoman or outlander, nothin’ bad,” He crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair. “Just a wee term of endearment.”

“Do you have wee terms for all the models you’ve worked with?” She finished the last bite of her burger, looking at him.

“Nay,” He smiled, “Just for ye.”  

“Flattered,” She leaned forward, her eyes locked with his, “Jamie…”

“Aye?” He swallowed, a cold rush creeping up his neck.

“Are you going to finish those?” She looked down and pointed to his fries.

“No,” He smirked, “Ye can have them, Sassenach.”

Smirking, she grabbed his fries and leaned back to eat.

**********

They walked towards Claire’s apartment in Greenwich Village. Both keeping a reasonable distance between their bodies.  The silence between them was in no way awkward. It was a comfortable one, shared by two people who seemed to have known one another for years.

“Do ye live alone?” Jamie finally spoke. He knew they weren’t far from her place. She had said that much a few minutes ago.

Claire nodded, smiling, “I used to have a roommate when I lived in Brooklyn in the beginning because it was cheaper and I didn’t make much money. But she went back to Europe a few months ago so I moved to Manhattan in a loft.”

“I found New York to be too overwhelmin’,” He said sincerely, “In London, ‘tis still big but ye have places where tourists and the madness are avoidable. Here ‘tis seems impossible.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” She smiled, “But I know I won’t live in New York forever. I mean, I love my job but it’s not a long term thing, let’s be honest.”

“Och, well –”

“Right now everyone wants me, next season it’ll be another girl and it’s fine,” She smiled, looking in her bag either for her keys or her phone.

“Well, ye’ve been aroun’ for more than one season, Sassenach,” He remarked. It might have been the first time they worked together, he knew she was indeed everywhere.

“Yes but it’s not going to last,” She grinned, looking at him, “I’m just being realistic and enjoying the moment while it lasts.”

“What would ye be doin’ if ye were no’ a model?”

Claire thought for a second, narrowing her eyes at no one in particular, “I’d work in publishing. That would be a great job since I read a lot,” She smiled.

“Don’t be fooled, I’m a real nerd and I’m always in a corner reading a book with my glasses on whenever I’m backstages or even during shoots. Except when the photographer is as entertaining as you,” She nudged his side as they were walking.

Jamie didn’t know why but it was the first time he was in New York and everything around him seemed quiet. As if the city had been removed from its inhabitants. He was aware of the things going on around them but it seemed they were the only two people in the world, just now.

“A wee nerd,” He smirked, watching her, “That makes two of us. Except I’m a shy one.”

“Well, you’re an artist –” She looked at him, smiling. 

“I’m no’” He shrugged smiling, “I just take pictures.”

“Who are you trying to convince here? You or me? Because I’m sure it’s not true, I’ve only heard great things about you and your work.”

“Well, thank ye,” He said sincerely, smiling.

Claire stopped in front of a metallic door and looked at him, “Well we’ve arrived.”

He stopped, then, and looked at her, “Weel then, we’ve arrived, Sassenach.”

“Oh,” She removed the scarf he had given her and handed it to him, “Thank you for that.”

“No problem,” He took it and put it around his neck. It now smelled of Claire, a mixture of patchouli and vanilla, and Jamie was transfixed. “Thank ye for yer work today, I hope ye’ll like the pictures.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” She smiled, looking at into his eyes. She was bewitching him and he let her do it. Willingly surrendering to her power. He leaned slowly as Claire leaned up towards him.

Jamie wanted to kiss her.  _Badly_. His lips were burning, tingling with a need to crush against hers. He hesitated for a brief instant, feeling his heart squeeze, almost breaking when he pulled back at the last second. He panicked and noted her slight shift of expression.

“Goodbye, Claire,” He blurted, biting his lower lip.

“Goodbye, Jamie,” She smiled, then, almost amused, and biting her lower lip, “Nice meeting you.”

“Aye,” He ran his fingers through his copper curls, thanking God it was dark and she couldn’t see his crimson cheeks, “Ye too, Sassenach.”

Claire gave him a last smile and he watched her disappeared behind the door, his heart heavy and full of regrets. Jamie knew he wasn’t going to see her again. Not unless the universe was on his side and it would put Claire Beauchamp on his path again.

  _He could only pray._


	2. London

Claire couldn’t exactly explain why coming back to London always felt like a homecoming. It wasn’t the fact that she lived here for two years. After all, it wasn’t the place she had called home the longest in her nomadic life. It was something in the air, like a sense of first love.  _ **Of adoration.**_

London fashion week was always far more relaxed than New York.  _ **Artsier**_. Less pressure. The same people walking around in Manolos and leather trousers last week, were now in Dr Martens and vintage exuberant faux fur coats, getting snapped coming out of a Vivienne Westwood exhibition or a Molly Goddard show. People took themselves less seriously in London.

Claire didn’t walk for too many shows this week. Not only because London had less big names and more independent designers on tight budget, but also because whenever she was in town, she wanted to relax and take a breath before tackling Milan and Paris. Two cities where her schedule was crazy and she barely slept.  

She was aware being a model wasn’t the most terrible job on the planet, nonetheless, when she started, she had quickly learned that the industry was not only cutthroat, it also had no regard towards anyone, even the big names. And her wellbeing came before any paycheck. _It always had._

She’d be needed in Milan in two days for fittings before walking for the likes of Valentino, Dolce & Gabbana and Versace. That meant _– very –_ early mornings and late nights until Paris. Where the mornings would start even earlier and the late nights will go way up until the early mornings. Then a few days off. Before flying to Japan for a shoot. And another shoot, somewhere Claire didn’t remember just now. And again and again, until the next fashion month in September.

_**She liked it.**_  The people she met. The places she visited – or saw, more than actually visited. _**The thrill. The adrenaline**. _She had, however, no personal life and no time for one.

Her last boyfriend was a failed actor. They had dated for a year before she moved to New York and he made a scene, not wanting to follow her. Since then, she barely had time to meet anyone, even less fall in love. Not that she had ever been in love –  _really in love –_  anyway.

After leaving New York the day after the shoot with Jamie, she realized she had not stopped thinking about him since they had parted in front of her apartment. She knew he’d wanted to kiss her, then. She had wanted him to. But he did not. She should have kissed him herself, she thought. _**She regretted not to**._

After arriving at the hotel in East London, she had napped and googled him immediately afterwards. She found his website and spend the next hour scrolling through his work, over and over again.  ** _She was fascinated_. **Claire had worked with many photographers but their pictures were always rather generic. Basic fashion pictures focusing on clothes and how to sell them. 

_**Jamie’s were different.** _

She didn’t notice the way the models were dressed, she noticed their faces. He had the ability to highlight beauty in such a way. Almost like those Renaissance masters and their delicate brush strokes. In the evening, she went out with some friends, came back to the hotel and slept like a rock til morning.

_**No alarm. No fittings. No shoot. Nothing.**_  She woke up fairly early, letting her eyes get used to the sunlight peeking through the window. She could already tell it was one of those cold days where the sun shone brighter than in summer. Claire didn’t get up immediately. Being able to laze around was already enough to make her happy. Around 10, she finally got ready to head off for breakfast at Albion.

The breakfast spot was the street behind her hotel and it wasn’t packed. She ordered some toasts with butter and raspberry jam. A peppermint tea and an almond croissant. She didn’t know what she would do today. She had no plans and it was her favourite way to spend her time. She’d probably walk around, stop in a few shops for books and magazines. Visit a gallery. Go have lunch at her favourite restaurant, not far from the hotel either.

Claire’s mind drifted to Jamie again. Without warning and while she was busy reading the newspaper someone had left on the table before she arrived. She wondered what he was doing.  _ **Working? Travelling?**_  Where in the world he was.  _ **Paris? Still New York?**_  She wondered if he was single?  _ **Probably not.**_  And what had been his first impression of her. Quickly shaking the thoughts of the scot away, she finished her breakfast and left the café.

She dropped off her shopping by the hotel in the early afternoon before going back out for lunch and more exploration. And the day had been mostly uneventful, time passing like a slow wave coming across the sand.

Walking towards Brick Lane, Claire let her eyes wander around. Noticing the new graffitis on the walls. She smiled absently and looked up, at some point while she turned the corner toward nowhere in particular. The next thing she felt was herself falling backwards and being crushed by a giant.

“Christ!” Jamie looked at her, his face barely an inch from hers. She could feel his warm breath tickling her lips.

Blinking, Claire almost smiled when she saw who it was. She would have if she didn’t feel her organs being reduced under his weight, “Jamie…You’re crushing me.”

His face turned bright red and she almost laughed. Jamie got up at once, muttering apology after apology as he pulled her up, “Are ye alright? Christ, I’m sae sorry –”

“Don’t worry,” She chuckled, brushing off her coat, “That’s what I get for not looking where I go, I’m fine!”

Jamie relaxed then and finally smiled, “Ye’re a strong wee thing.”

“Indeed, I am,” She grinned, adjusting her beanie. “Though I thought for a second my time had come.”

“Could I redeem myself of almost killin’ ye by buying ye a coffee?” The smile he gave her was too suave to resist. 

“That’s tempting but if I have a coffee now, I won’t sleep tonight,” She smiled, watching him.

“Och,” His lip flicked up and he smiled, but sadly. “I willna keep ye much longer, then. I bet ye must be busy wi’ fashion week and all –”

“I’m not, actually,” She interrupted him and noticed the change in his expression. His lips were plump and red with the cold. They were always calling her, like magnets. “I’m not working today, I’ve just been lazing around…If you care to join me?”

“Are ye sure?” He frowned slightly as if she was messing with him and she almost laughed.

“Of course,” She touched his arm to reassure him, “I wouldn’t ask if I wanted to get rid of you and spend my time alone. That was the plan for today but I don’t mind having company now…Only if you want, maybe you’re busy.”

“Nay, I’m no’,” Jamie ran his fingers through his curls and she wondered how soft they would feel.

“I was actually supposed to be in New York still but the shoot got cancelled last minute so I flew home yesterday…I have nothin’ planned today, either.”

“Do you live around the area?”

“Aye, no’ far at all, actually,” He pointed behind him, “Near Redchurch street.”

“I’m staying at the Ace Hotel, we’re practically neighbours,” She smirked, “This is my favourite part of the city. I used to live around here.”

“Aye, ‘tis relaxed aroun’ here and not far from the centre, all.”

“I know I told you no for a coffee but I wouldn’t say no to a drink and some crisps at the pub down the street,” She tilted her head, smiling. “After all, it’s almost that time of the day.”

“Ye’re right,” He winked. Blinking both eyes, getting a snort out of her.

“Did you just sneeze internally or was that your version of a wink? I’ve noticed that at the shoot too and I forgot to ask…”

Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle, “No’ I canna wink properly, it doesna stop me though.”

“I love your dedication,” She laughed and they started to walk towards the pub. It was somewhere around 4pm and the light was already starting to fade.

“Are ye laughin’ at me?” Jamie looked at her, pouting.

“I’m most certainly am,” She grinned, nudging his side, “That’s really cute, I’ve never met someone who couldn’t wink before.”

“I’m happy I can entertain ye so easily then, Sassenach,” Smirking, Jamie opened the door for her and followed Claire into the pub.

As she made her way towards a table in a quiet corner, Claire knew he was watching her. She felt his eyes on her body and something inside of her was starting to boil. She had never felt like that before, towards anyone. She didn’t know what it was about James Fraser but she hoped she would find out before she had to jump on a plane to Italy.

“What can I get ye to drink?” He removed his coat, hanging it by their table.

“A beer,” She smiled, doing the same and sitting down, “And some salt and vinegar crisps.”

“Comin’ right up,” He smiled and made his way towards the bar.

Claire took that opportunity to observe him. She had noticed how beautiful he was upon their first meeting, but he truly looked incredible. Every other female around had their eyes glued to him. She could not blame them. Yet, it annoyed her. A feeling she had not experienced until now and she had no idea what to do with.

“Crisps and beer for the lady,” Jamie announced proudly as he sat down, putting the drinks on the table.

“Thank you,” Claire smiled, taking her drink, “What should we cheer at?”

“Days off durin’ fashion week?” His eyebrow rose and he smiled.

“Indeed, cheers to that,” Claire smirked, clicking their bottles together. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually had a drink with a guy. They had dinner together in New York a few days ago but somehow this felt different.

“You know,” She said after taking a sip, “I’ve told you about me when we ate burgers, I think it’s time you tell me a little bit about your life, Fraser.”

Jamie smiled, opening the bag of crisps, “What would ye like to know?”

“You could tell me about your family, for a start.”

“Aye,” He grinned, leaning closer to her, “How many generations back?”

“Your parents will do,” Claire chuckled taking a crisp. “And if you have siblings.”

“I have a sister,” He smiled, taking a sip of his drink, “Jenny, she’s five years older than me. She’s married and has two bairns,  _wee Jamie_.” He smirked proudly, “Named after me, ken. And Margaret – _Maggie_. They all live at Lallybroch along wi’ my parents.”

“What’s Lallybroch? A village?” She rested her head in her palm. 

“My parents’ estate,” His eyes lit at that mention. “My Da bought the home before they got married and renovated it. It’s from the 18th century and ‘tis called that because it means lazy tower.”

“I like the name,” She grinned, leaning back.

“Aye, ‘tis such a beautiful and relaxin’ place. I love goin’ back whenever life in the city gets too much or I run out of inspiration.”

“Actually, thinking about it now, I just realised I’ve never visited Scotland,” Claire admitted, sipping her drink.

“We might need to rectify it, Sassenach,” He said softly, making her insides twist with the knowledge of what they might end up doing in Scotland.

“Yes, we should,” She finished her drink, “I don’t want anyone else as a guide.”

“But do ye want another beer?” He asked, smiling mischievously.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”  Her eyebrow flicked up, “No, don’t answer. Just get me another beer.”

Jamie finished his in one long sip and smiled before going back to the bar. He came back with a tray of various drinks. From beers to whisky and even shots.

“You know,” She attentively examined the tray before deciding what to get, “I might not be Scottish, I tend to deal with alcohol just like one.”

“Oh, aye?” Jamie smirked, watching her.

“Yes,” She took a shot and drowned it in one go. She looked at him – trying to hide the expression of mild pain at the burning in her throat– and proudly held up the empty glass. “I do.”

“I also don’t know when I got really drunk last,” Claire thought for a second. She probably shouldn’t try and be tonight. On the other hand, when was the last time she had that much fun in the company of a lad?

“I thought models were invited at parties all the time…”

“Yes we are, doesn’t mean we are all alcoholic coke heads,” She ate a crisp.

“I dinna meant that…” He looked at her, chewing on his bottom lip. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t take it personally,” She smiled, offering him a crisp, “I was just saying that they are some, of course. As I’m sure they are some in the art world you are in but I decided early on in my career I wouldn’t deal with that kind of crap. I already have a crazy schedule, if I add drugs and alcohol on top of that, I doubt I’ll ever be old.”

“I like the way ye think,” He said sincerely, “I’ve been workin’ for magazines and brands for a while now and truly, the shoot we did together was by far the most pleasant experience I ever had.”

“Did the pictures turn out well? Or maybe you didn’t receive the scans back yet –”

“They’re perfect,” He smiled, his eyes shining, “Truly perfect.”

Claire looked at him, feeling her neck getting warm all of a sudden. She didn’t know if it was because of him or the alcohol starting to erupt in her blood.

“I could show ye, they’re at my apartment,” Jamie said it softly as if he was afraid she’d think he was stepping on some inexistent professional hierarchy.

“I’d love to see them,” She smiled, “I guess we can get those beers with us.”

Nodding, Jamie seemed to relax and returned the smile, “Let’s go then.”

**********

“I love your place,” Claire exclaimed, looking around his apartment. “And Rochelle Canteen is like downstairs? That’s an actual dream!”

“Aye,” Jamie chuckled, putting the beers on the table, “I eat there more than I can to admit.”

“I can’t blame you,” She looked at him, taking off her jacket and hat, “The food is actually amazing.”

“We do have a lot in common,” He chuckled softly, removing his coat.

“Seems like it,” She smiled, making her way over to him. She knew her tone was flirtatious. She didn’t even think she did it on purpose. It was the effect he had on her.  _ **She couldn’t help herself.**  She didn’t want to help herself, either._

Jamie seemed flushed but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she watched as he carefully retrieved a box from his shelf and put it on the table, “I dinna ken which ones will be in the magazines but those are the ones I had selected to send them.”

Claire moved closer to him and looked through the photographs, speechless. She was used to seeing herself on paper – sometimes on a magazine cover, others on a huge billboard in the fashion district. She had learned to detach herself of her image, enough so she wouldn’t feel too self-conscious about it.

Truth be told, Claire never understood how she became a model. Even less, such a successful one. She had learnt to become more confident. It was needed to do her job well but she always faked it until she’d made it. Seeing those photographs, it was the first time she actually found herself beautiful.

“Jamie…” She looked at him, “I’m – I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Ye dinna like them?” He ran his hand on the back of his neck, “I mean ‘tis fine if ye dinna…”

“No, I love them,” Her mouth curled up into a smile, “Usually I don’t really care for them because I feel like a clothes hanger most of the time but those are so different, I can’t explain it.”

“Ye’re just sayin’ that,” He grinned, leaning against the table.

“I’m not,” She smiled, putting the pictures back, “You’re really talented. I actually looked at your website the other day.”  _ **Last night. For hours**. _She didn’t mention the tiny detail.

“I’m alright,” He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Why are you uncomfortable thinking of yourself as an artist? You’re in demand, you work with everyone, your pictures are amazing…I don’t get it.”

“I dinna ken, Sassenach,” He smiled, almost amused, “I guess ‘tis just I dinna find myself to do more than just take pictures. Probably the same as ye dinna think ye’re beautiful.”

“Well I’m not beautiful,” She chuckled, “But you are talented.”

“Claire…ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’m confident in the fact that I’ve seen a lot of beautiful women in my career.”

“Can I ask you something?” She faced him, then.  ** _They were close_.**Bodies almost touching.

“Aye,” He said softly, looking down at her.

“Why didn’t you kiss me when you walked me home last week?” Her whisky eyes locked with his blue ones. “Not that I want to feel presumptuous about it but I feel like you really wanted to.”

“Aye, I did,” He licked his lips, “Verra much.”

“Do you want to kiss me now?” She whispered, her own lips barely an inch from his.

“Christ, yes…” His hand came up onto her back and pressed her closer as their lips touched, slowly.

His lips tasted like beer and were warm. ** _So warm_.** But Claire soon realised his entire body was that way. He was like a furnace. Heat emanating from him like he was the sun.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him slightly lower to keep kissing him. Her lips parting his and their tongues met. Starting a slow dance of possession, sending shivers through her body as well as his.

The kiss awoke something feral in her. Something she had not acknowledged in a very long time and that Jamie seemed to have awoken the moment they had met. Her fingers started to unbutton his shirt. Working quickly to reveal his toned chest underneath.

“Claire…” Jamie whispered, touching her hand, “Are ye sure about that?”

Nodding, she looked at him, “But we don’t have to if you don’t want –”

Her cut her with another kiss and she melted against him. His arms wrapped around her waist, “I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe, Sassenach.”

_**That’s all she needed to know.** _

Kissing hungrily, they staggered toward the bedroom, desperately trying to get the other rid of their clothes as quick as possible.

Claire fell backwards on the bed, Jamie on her and she laughed, “You’re crushing me, again!”

“Sorry, Sassenach,” He grinned, moving slightly on his elbows.

“You’re not sorry at all,” She grinned, wrapping a leg around him before rolling them over to be on top.

“Och, no…Not as much as I should be anyway,” His hands travelled down her back, sliding into her lace panties to take a firm hold onto her buttocks, “Christ.”

“No, it’s Claire,” She said making laugh and she sat up, unhooking her bra.

Jamie looked up and swallowed, his hands coming up her waist and sides, “Ye dinna ken how many times I’ve thought about ye since last we met Sassenach. Of yer body under my hands…” He cupped one of her breast that fit perfectly into his palm.

“Yer body against mine,” His thumb awoke her nipple and she bit her lip not to make a sound.

Claire felt a shiver going through her body as she realised she was half naked and straddling him. She moved slightly and pulled down his boxers, freeing his erection. She heard his breath caught when her fingers brushed against his cock before taking hold of it. He was already hard and ready for her, yet, she wanted to drive him crazy and slowly stroked him. Just enough to see his head roll back onto the pillow and a hear groan escaping his lips.

She leaned down again, still stroking and kissed him slowly before whispering, “Tell me you have condoms, right?”

“Aye, a nighean,” He rasped against her lips, “Bedside table.”

She let go of him and leaned towards the bedside table, opening the drawer. She slid her hand inside and patted until she found was she was looking for. Sitting back up, she opened the condom and rolled it onto him.

Jamie closed his eyes as if he was concentrating on something and his breath caught again as her fingers worked their way over his length. He muttered something in Gaelic. Something that seemed like a curse mixed with a prayer and that made Claire smirk. “Are you alright?”

“Oh aye,” He opened his eyes to look at her, “Ye’re just drivin’ me mad, Sassenach.”

Smiling, Claire leaned down and kissed him, feeling his strong hands resting on her back, slowly stroking her skin. They made their way down and his fingers tucked at her panties to finally remove the last layer between them.

They rolled over, Jamie coming back on top and her panties went flying somewhere across the room. Somewhere she wouldn’t probably know where coming morning. But that was the least of her concerns. Right now, all she could think about was Jamie, naked and throbbing on top of her.

“I want ye, Claire,” He groaned against her lips, wrapping her leg around his waist, his cock barely an inch from her entrance.

She was almost suffocating with anticipation. Shivering with want. Need. She cupped his cheeks, looking into his eyes and gave herself to him.  _ **Completely**_.

_“I’m yours.”_

She was his. She didn’t care if her heart would become ashes at his mercy. It felt so good to burn for him.  _ **With him.**_


	3. Milan

When Claire woke up, her limbs felt heavy, her head about to explode and she was disoriented. She had probably gotten the flu during that photo shoot the other day. Summer clothes in windy February did nothing good to the body. It was well into the third week of fashion month and her hectic schedule wasn’t helping with the exhaustion. Neither was the fact she couldn’t take Jamie off her mind.

Since their night together in London, she felt something clutching at her. Something both terribly heavy and wonderful.  _And terrifying_.  

Claire felt stupid. She never truly believed in love at first sight. Lust, yes. She was aware the two sentiments were different. With Jamie, it was both, at once. She was falling.  _Without_   _warning. Rapidly._ And it scared her.

_Scared her so much Claire had run away from it._

> _“Sassenach?” Jamie looked at her, sleep still floating in the blue of his eyes. His curls were a mess. He looked like a cherub fallen from heaven and her heart broke at the sight._
> 
> _“Are ye leavin’?” Rubbing his eyes, Jamie slowly sat up._
> 
> _Their night together had been wonderful. Indescribable. So much so she had panicked the moment she had woken up and seen him sleeping next to her, the loveliest smile on his face. Thankfully, she had received a call asking her on a shoot in Milan and had to leave a day earlier than planned._
> 
> _She could have said no. She should have said no. But she didn’t. And she was already hating herself for it._
> 
> _“I’ve been called on a last minute shoot. The previous model cancelled and they want me now,” She started to explain, looking at him. “You know how these things go —“_
> 
> _“Aye,” He answered softly, his voice neutral, “I ken.”_
> 
> _“I wasn’t going to leave without waking you,” The words escaped her before she realised it. And it was the truth. She wouldn’t have run without a word. Though, when she said so, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him and finished to get dress._
> 
> _Jamie had grabbed his boxers and put them on, getting up silently, “Do ye regret last night, Claire?”_
> 
> _Claire looked at him, her heart squeezing, “No,” she said sincerely and smiled. “I really don’t.”_
> 
> _“Then what is it?” He touched her cheek and she melted into him. How could she leave?_
> 
> _Claire realised she couldn’t lie to him. She couldn’t play a role nor act as if she was unbothered because deep down, she was._
> 
> _“I haven’t been with a guy in a while,” She looked up at him, letting his blue eyes pierce through her. “And usually I don’t…you know, with someone I worked with.”_
> 
> _“Weel, me either, Sassenach,” His mouth curled up into a smile, “‘Tis a rule of mine, actually.”_
> 
> _“But it’s not only that,” She looked down again, knowing she was about to break her own heart in pieces to prevent herself to be hurt._
> 
> _“Jamie, realistically this could never work. You live here and I live in New York. We’re barely home anyway, always on a plane to somewhere –”_
> 
> _“I ken that,” He lifted her chin to make her look at him._
> 
> _“I’m off now and you’ll be working, I won’t get back to New York for at least another month, then I’ll be off again somewhere while you’ll be some other places.”_
> 
> _“Ye’re right,” He admitted, sighing,  “But I dinna want ye to think ‘tis was…”_
> 
> _“I don’t,” She interrupted him, something settling in her stomach. “For me neither, it’s just complicated at the moment.”_
> 
> _“Maybe next time ye’re in London ye can give me a call and we’ll go have dinner at Rochelle?” He smiled, stroking her cheek._
> 
> _“Are you asking me on a date?” She couldn’t help but smile._
> 
> _“Maybe,” He kissed the tip of her nose, “I hope ye’ll be back soon.”_
> 
> _“I really wish I could give you a proper answer to that,” She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest._
> 
> _Jamie cradled her head, stroking her curls back, “Me too, Sassenach but I dinna care how long I need to wait for ye. I’m verra patient.”_
> 
> _Claire had never felt so at peace in someone’s arms. Never in her life had she felt at home the way she did at that moment. Actually, she never felt at home anywhere. Until now. She held him close for a while, both wrapped in complete silence. She didn’t understand how she could feel so attached to a man she had met a little bit more than a week ago. A man who was practically a stranger and yet, one she seemed to have known forever._
> 
> _Reluctantly, Claire pulled back and looked at him, “I should go back to my hotel and pack or I’ll miss my flight.”_
> 
> _Nodding, Jamie stroked a stray curl behind her ear, “Do ye want me to bring ye?”_
> 
> _Yes._
> 
> _“No, it’s alright,” She smiled softly, resting a hand on his bare chest, “It’s early, go back to bed.”_
> 
> _“May I kiss ye then?” The tip of his ears turned crimson and he had a faint air of embarrassment at his question as if she would say no._
> 
> _“You may,” She cupped his cheeks and smiled, almost shyly. As if it was the first time she was going to be kissed._
> 
> _Claire couldn’t remember her first kiss. Nor did she want to. She didn’t remember the boys that came before Jamie nor even the kisses he gave her last night. Nothing mattered more to her than the one he gave her now. A kiss that felt like a farewell and a new beginning altogether. A kiss that was full of unspoken promises._

That had been five days ago.

In the meantime, Claire lost her phone backstage somewhere between the Versace and the Armani show. And she barely had time to sit down and take a deep breath. She thought about Jamie at all time. She wondered what he was doing.  _Whom he was with._  Whenever she collapsed in bed and succumbed to slumber, he was there too. Taking over her dream.  _Her body_. Whatever he wanted and she let him.

Claire laid in bed for a while, eyes closed. It was sometime around 8pm. At least that was what the alarm clock on the bedside table indicated. She yawned again and stretched, like a graceful cat. She heard her stomach growl and decided to order some room service. Before she had the chance to reach for the phone, a knock came at the door.

Louise De la Tour walked in, dressed in a little black Chanel dress with matching Louboutin heels and a smirk on her gorgeous face, “Beauchamp, on sort!”

“Hello to you too, Lou,” Claire couldn’t help but chuckle as she sat up slowly. “Why do you want to go out?”

“Why?” Louise closed the door and looked at her friend, rolling her eyes, “Because we’re in Milan and we have a night off. Also, I’m in desperate need of alcohol.”

“I have no choice in the matter, do I?”

“Nope you don’t,” She sat on the bed, smirking.

Louise was a fellow model. She had started her career around the same time as Claire and as the two young women found themselves on castings and fittings together, they quickly developed a strong bond.

“I think I got the flu on the shoot the other day and I barely sat down today,” Claire pouted, “We could stay here and watch a movie, there’s plenty of alcohol in the mini bar!”

“Claire,” Louise pouted in turn, “Come on! I love you but you’re the most boring model I’ve ever met. Don’t tell me you were about to order some food and read all evening?”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh, “I actually was! You know I’m a real grandmother.”

“Are you thinking about your Scotsman, again?”

“What do you mean again?” She looked at her friend, “I’ve never stopped.”

Louise chuckled, “My my, I’ve never seen you like this, Beauchamp.”

Louise always called Claire by her last name. And as a Frenchie, she actually pronounced it the way it was supposed to be:  _Beau-Cham._

“What? Pathetic and in love? I’ve never seen me like this before, either, if that comforts you,” Claire leaned back against the headboard. “I shouldn’t even say in love. We met twice and had sex once.”

“Tu l’as dis, it’s too late now,” She patted her leg, “Love at first sight exists. I’m still waiting for it but I’m hopeful! And you told me yourself, the sex was amazing.”

Claire blushed at the last admission because it had been amazing. And she had never experienced it like that with a man before Jamie. It had always been alright.  _Fine, at best_. With Jamie, it seemed as if their bodies were made to make one. 

“Okay, look,” Louise got up, “Let’s have a deal. We go out for an hour or two, have a few drinks which I’m sure will help your cold and then you can come back here and read, have a bath or whatever you want –”

“Louise…” Claire sighed.

“S’il te plait,” She pouted, crossing her arms. “Two hours.”

“Fine!” Claire threw her hands in the air in defeat and got up, “Let me sort myself out, at least.”

Grinning proudly, Louise sat down on the bed and watched her, “What are you going to wear?”

“I dunno but don’t get your hopes up, it won’t be a short dress,” She turned her head to look at Louise and smirked seeing her defeated expression.

Claire picked up a pair of  _Totême_  leather trousers, a vintage  _Céline_ silk white shirt and a pair of heeled  _Margiela_  boots. She disappeared into the bathroom and got ready quickly. 

She’d never been too fussy about her appearance. Being a model only reinforced her dislike for any fuss regarding her hair and makeup. Whenever she wasn’t working, she liked to go bare-faced to let her skin breathe and for her curls…nothing was worth trying to tame the mess. Since she was going out, she bothered with some mascara and a little bit of blush and called it a night.

“You look amazing,” Louise looked at her from head to toe once she had come out of the bathroom.

“Well, so do you so don’t start,” Claire grinned, putting on her  _Acne_ shearling coat, “And I’ll pretend I don’t have a sore throat for two hours just because I love you so much.”

“I promise I’ll be a grandma with you one of those nights,” Louise got up, smirking.

“I can’t wait,” Claire laughed and opened the door for her friend.

*********

The bar was crowded, loud and reeked of cigarettes. The DJ was playing some kind of house music that seemed more like a succession of “ _booms_ ” than actual music. Claire recognized a few familiar faces as most of the people around were probably in town for the same reason as her.

“What do you want?” Louise said loudly, leaning in her ear.

“Just some coca cola,” She answered in an equally loud tone and smirked as the Frenchie rolled her eyes. “What? I have an early call tomorrow. It’s Prada and I’m opening.”

_“It’s Prada and I’m opening,”_  Louise repeated with a bad English accent and grinned, “Of course you are!”

“I’ll remind you tomorrow morning when you’ll be hungover and crawling backstage,” Claire kissed her cheek.

“I count on you to do that,”  Winking, Louise nudged her before making her way towards the bar and leaving Claire alone at the table.

Louise reappeared behind the crowd of people after a few minutes with the drinks and sat down, “Here you go, ma chérie!”

“Thank you, darling,” Claire took her soda and raised her glass, “To one more week of madness.”

“Before the rest of the madness,” Louise added, raising her own glass.

“Right,” Claire laughed and took a sip.

“So tell me,” Louise leaned closer so Claire would hear her with all this noise, “When are you seeing your Scot again?”

“I don’t know, when I’ll be in London again, hopefully. It doesn’t help that I lost my phone and his number along with it,” Claire rolled her eyes, “I think you know, maybe it’s for the best and the universe will put it on my way when the moment will be right.”

“When did Beauchamp become such a romantic?” Louise pretended to be shocked and Claire almost laughed.

“I’m not a romantic!” Claire shook her head of curls, knowing full well she’d always been one. “It’s just, realistically, his career and my career are keeping us both pretty occupied and since we work in the same business, I’m sure one day I’ll see him again. Maybe on a shoot or at a party.”

“That’s what you are telling yourself because you are so afraid of what you feel this guy that you ran away,” Louise looked at her, her words stinging with their truth. “Am I right?”

Sighing, Claire took a sip of her drink, “Yes, you are…I guess I panicked and I ran away as soon as I got a call asking me to come to Milan sooner than expected.”

“Well, you said he was fine with waiting for you right?”

“Right,” Claire smiled, licking her lips in a vain hope to regain the taste of Jamie’s when they had parted.

“Well then, you could go to London and show up at his place. After all, you know where he lives!”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit creepy?” Claire smirked.

“I mean, you don’t have to fly there only for that but next time you’re in the city, you can go visit him. I don’t think he’ll find it to be creepy,” Louise chuckled, “At least I hope.”

“Or you could also totally go to London only to see him,” She added, smirking.

“Yeah, I could,” She had thought about it.  _More than once._  And the more she thought about it, the more she could see herself cancel some work commitments to fly back to see Jamie.

“But right now I need to pee,” Claire finished her drink and got up, “Do you want me to get you another drink when I come back?”

“No, I’ll go dancing for a bit!” Louise waved her hand as she finished her vodka. 

Nodding, Claire smiled and made her way towards the ladies’ room. She actually didn’t need to go to the bathroom. She just wanted to get away from the music and the noise for a minute and splash some water on her face to help the ache pounding against her temples.

“Oh my god, you are Claire Beauchamp!” Came from a voice as soon as she stepped inside the room. The young woman was slightly shorter than Claire. With long straight black hair and green eyes.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Claire frowned for a quick second, trying to recall if they had ever met. She was clearly American and from the way she was dressed, worked in fashion.  _Or wanted to._

“No,” She chuckled, “But I know you! I mean, everyone who reads Vogue knows you! I’m Drea Thompson.”

“Well nice to meet you,” She smiled in turn,  “Are you around for fashion week or?”

“Oh, yes! I’m an aspiring model and I’ve been booked for a few shoots here. It’s my first time in Europe, everything is so exciting!”

“I hope you’re enjoying your time here then,” Claire remembered the first time she came to Milan or Paris. How giddy and excited she had been. It was slightly different now. She loved it but everything had lost its first-time appeal.

“I’m sorry,” the American chuckled, “I will stop babbling, you’re probably here for some urgent matters.”

Claire simply nodded, smiling. Drea seemed like a lovely girl but she wasn’t doing anything to help the headache, “See you around.”

“Nice meeting you!” She exclaimed, making her way out and closing the door.

Claire washed her hands with cold water and rubbed her temple slowly, closing her eyes. She had made an effort, she had drunk one glass, she would tell Louise she was going back to the hotel. Her throat wasn’t improving, neither were her sore muscles, the last thing she needed was fever and to be nailed to a bed while she had to be working. Some vitamins, a warm cup of tea and bed would do the trick and tomorrow she’d wake up as a new woman.

After a few minutes, Claire made her way back in the club and looked around in search of Louise. She wasn’t sitting at the table. She wasn’t dancing and before she could see if her friend was ordering some drinks at the bar or flirting with someone, her eyes landed on Jamie and her heart stopped.

He was leaning against the wall, beer in hand and laughing while a woman  _– Drea, actually –_ was pressed against him. They were laughing together, faces barely an inch from one another. It wasn’t until Drea leaned up to kiss Jamie that Claire realised what she was looking at.

_She was frozen._  In the middle of a crowd of people, pushing past her to access different parts of the club. Her night with Jamie replayed in front of her eyes. Over and over again.  _His kisses. His touches. His words when they had parted._ Everything like little daggers cutting through her heart and making it drain itself up to the last drop of blood. She wanted to crawl out of her own skin and go away.  _Far away_. Before Jamie had the time to see her.

But he saw her. And his face crumbled in turn.

Claire left without a word to Louise. Nor her jacket. She knew her friend was either off with a guy or would come to the hotel to see if Claire had gone back at some point. There was no point in looking for her to say she was leaving. She couldn’t anyway. She was too angry.  _Too hurt_. To do anything more than flee.

The cold air hitting her face as soon as she had stepped outside was very much welcomed. Being outside without a jacket wouldn’t improve her flu but at this point, she actually did not care. The hotel wasn’t very far anyway, it wouldn’t take her more than ten minutes and if she walked fast, it would be even less than that.

God, she felt so stupid.  _So fucking stupid._

“Claire!” She heard Jamie’s voice behind her but she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased her steps, wiping her cheeks in the process.

“Claire, wait!” Jamie appeared suddenly in front of her and she stopped abruptly, “Wait, please – ”

“Wait? For what exactly?” She pushed past him and started walking again.

“Please, wait, let me explain,” He followed her, quickly. He had left the club as abruptly as she had since he was outside in his shirt and he had been running.

“Explain what? You’re in a club in Milan snogging a girl, what exactly do you want to add to that?” She stopped to look at him, swallowing back her tears of anger.

“This no’ what you think –”

“Of course it isn’t,” She cut him off, not being able to hide the sarcasm in her voice, “Why are you here anyway?”

“I’ve been called up to work on a campaign, ‘tis was last minute and I flew in this morning before I went straight up to the studio –”

“Well good for you,” She started to walk again, shaking her head.

“I tried to call ye!”

Claire stopped, turning around slowly, “And I lost my fucking phone yesterday, Jamie! Just save your explanations, I don’t need them. Go back to the club and to your clingy little model.”

“Claire…”He pleaded to her.  _It didn’t work._ “Please, let me explain.”

“No, you have nothing to explain,” She walked over to him, wiping her cheeks. Humiliation had turned into anger.

“She worked on the shoot today and we came here wi’ the whole team, I dinna think she was goin’ to kiss me –”

“What happened to your little rule of not involving yourself with people you worked with? Apparently, it wasn’t just broken for me, was it?” She shook her head, “I can’t believe this just happened.”

“‘Tis no’ what you think,” He sighed, running his hand through his curls. His eyes were full of something.  _Shame. Sadness._ She couldn’t tell. 

“Not even a week ago, you told me you’d wait for me and I stupidly thought you actually would!” She continued, ignoring the tears strolling down her cheek, before he had the time to say something, “I was even thinking about cancelling a job after this month is over to come to London to see you – ”

“Ye were?” His voice had low as he croaked that sentence out.

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway, does it? ” She looked at him, gathering the little courage she had left, “I’m just another model for you…Another one to thick off your shag list –”

“You were no’!” Jamie protested, standing in front of her – their bodies almost touching.

“I don’t even want to fight with you…” She admitted, looking at his eyes. She heard her heart pounding in her ears. She didn’t want to fight him – it was too late. 

“Just leave me alone,” She croaked softly before turning around again to leave.

“Claire…” Jamie stood in the middle of the sidewalk in the cold February night, watching her walk away. His voice fading behind her. 

“Claire!” 

She didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, she let the tears roam free and made her way towards the hotel, letting the shattered pieces of her heart scatter all over the pavement behind her. 


	4. Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it, folks! The last part of POSE. Thank you so much for reading along, I hope you’ll love this last chapter as much as I loved writing it. Enjoy <3

  _ **One year later**_

Claire never really loved Paris.  _She liked it._  And she wasn’t even sure it was for the right reasons or simply because she was told to do so in the countless romanticised versions of the city. Written in books, sang about or frozen on photographs.

It was a beautiful city, full of things to do and people to meet but she had never seen the appeal beyond that. And there were lots of beautiful cities with things to do and people to meet. She remembered she had liked it the first time. She had been young. Fascinated by the blinding lights upon nightfall as she sat at the back of a taxi, nose practically glued to the window. She had liked it so much, actually, it started to feel like a clingy ex trying to get in touch every time she came back. Which was often. 

_This time something was slightly different._

After yet another hectic fashion month, she was done working.  _For good._  It had been Claire Beauchamp’s last season. She had now “ _retired_ ” as they said in the business. She had walked her last show and closed Chanel. That was exactly the right way to end a career, still at the top, leaving people wanting more.  She knew it was the right time. She’d had enough and now her body just needed to rest before she’d enrol back to university in October.

She found herself wandering through the streets, with plenty of time on her hands to finally visit Paris. Not simply see it from afar, while rushing from a show to another in the back of a scooter. No, this time, she was free to do as she pleased. Sleep in late and have breakfast at Café de Flore before spending her day reading at a terrace. She could visit the Musée d’Orsay and take a stroll through the Tuileries Garden without any street style photographer screaming for her picture before she’d enter a show. This time, she wasn’t in Paris as a model, she was in Paris as a tourist. And Claire finally started to see the appeal of the City of Lights.

Claire still thought of Jamie sometimes. She’d see a spread photographed by him in a magazine or simply catch a flash of red hair in a crowd and her heart would skip a bit. But it was never the Scot and then the image of him and that trollop would come back to her. Something that just made her insides twist and gave her an unpleasant nauseous feeling.

She had one more day in Paris before she’d hop back in the Eurostar to London and move into her new place. Her things had been sent from New York and were already waiting for her there to be unwrapped and placed around the house to make it a home.  _Her home._  She hadn’t been excited about something so simple in a really long time and she couldn’t wait to finally be able to live in London again.  

She had woken up fairly early and left the warm cocoon of her hotel bed to go and take a walk. The city was still waking up, tourists had not yet taken residences in every corner and local were not rushing around to go to work. The streets were almost empty. Like her mind. And the light had just started to come up, casting a golden glow on the beautiful architecture all around her.

She walked through the Tuileries and smiled at an elderly couple sitting together on a bench, holding hands. She wondered how many times they had sat on that very bench. Maybe they even met there and came back often to reminisce. Or they simply lived nearby and it was their morning ritual. When they smiled back at her, she almost felt like a voyeur and continued her way towards a little café.

Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever bump into Jamie randomly like she had in London. Not that the prospect of being crushed by a giant scot thrilled her all that much. She wasn’t even sure she ever wanted to see him again, in fact. But something inside of was craving it.  _Craving him._  Just as much as the first time they met. A curiosity, she guessed. To see if even after more than a year and what had happened in Milan,  he still made her feel the same way.

Sitting outside the cafe, she watched life go by.  _Slowly_. The city waking up as much as she was. Sleep still rooted behind her lids. The cappuccino was bitter and they had put whipped cream on top of it, instead of frothed milk. It was also hugely overpriced, something she blamed onto the location of the place. It seemed that visiting Paris for the first time, also made her fall into each tourist traps. But she wasn’t mad. It actually amused her more than anything else. After all, if the coffee was bad, the view was glorious.

“Claire?”

She stopped mid-sip, her eyes travelling up to see how had called her. She knew who had. She just needed confirmation. She swallowed slowly, her face adopting a weird expression of surprise, she didn’t know was due to the bitterness of the liquid in her mouth or because her eyes just had came upon the sight of James Fraser. At that moment, all her suspicions of how she’d feel if she ever had to see him again came to an abrupt realisation that, yes, he still had the same effect on her.

“Hello,” She said casually, putting her mug back on the round marble table. The bastard looked even better than before. And she fluctuated between mild annoyance and strong attraction because of that fact. His hair was hidden under a wool beanie but she could see some bits trying to escape around his temple and his eyes…She had to take another quick sip of bad coffee to bring her mind elsewhere.

“It’s Jamie…”

“I know,” She couldn’t help but smile, amused. “You really thought I wouldn’t recognize you?”

“Och, well…Who kens?” He seemed to relax and smiled in turn, “No’ everyone does.”

“Are those people blind, then? No, because, even if I hadn’t seen you naked, I would have recognized you.”

He laughed at that, “Weel, I’m no’ really naked right now so.”

“Dressed or not, you’re very tall and rather hard to miss,” She watched him, “I’m sure I would have seen you if I wasn’t busy wondering why I paid 7 euros for such a disgusting beverage.”

“You pay for the view,” Jamie turned quickly to look behind him where the glass pyramid of the Louvre was front and centre in the background, surrounded by a hoard of rose bushes and other various flowers, in the first frame.

“That’s what I’ve been learning since I decided to play tourist,” She tried to take her eyes off him. Really, she did. But she couldn’t. Be damned whatever pretty sight was around them, she didn’t care.

“I willna bother ye longer, then,” His eyes locked with her and he smiled, almost shyly. “It was good seein’ ye, Sassenach.”

Claire didn’t answer. Nothing came out of her mouth and Jamie started to walk away, camera clutched in his hand. She felt a rush of panic taking over her. Panic not to see him again. He had stepped all over her heart a year ago, apparently, she was a masochist and was willingly going to let him do it all over again if the urge took him.

“Jamie, wait!” She got up and grabbed her bag before walking over to him.

He turned around, almost surprised she was calling after him, “Aye?”

“Uh..” She looked at him, at lost for words. She didn’t know why she had called and hurried after him, but here she was.

“I’ve seen there is a Helmut Newton retrospective at Le Grand Palais and I was wondering if you’ve seen it?” At that moment, she thanked Lambert for always telling her to read the prospectus in hotel lobbies.

“I thought about going but maybe you could tell me if it’s any good?”

“I didn’t go yet,” His mouth curled up into a smile, “But if ye have some time to spare maybe we could go together?”

He quickly glanced at his watch, “‘Tis gonna open soon and ‘tis a twenty-minute walk from here.”

“Sure, it’s not like I had anything more important to do today, anyway,” She started walking before Jamie could answer and she heard his camera.

“No pictures,” She turned around, shaking her head with a grin.

_Click_.

“Too late,” He grinned, walking over to her.  “I wasna photographing ye, it was the landscape.”

“I will have no proof of that since your shooting film, aren’t you?” She crossed her arms, looking at him.

“Exactly,” His grin grew wider and she just wanted to slap it off his stupidly gorgeous face. She wasn’t supposed to feel so happy to see him. She was still mad and hurt. Yet, the butterflies in her stomach were having a party and she had no idea how to make it stop.

Shaking her head, she started to walk again. They walked silently through the park, almost pretending like the other wasn’t there. Yet, the silence they were wrapped in wasn’t weird or awkward. No matter what happened between them.

They would have to touch on the subject at some point, neither of them seemed too ecstatic to do so, just now.

“So…” Claire finally broke the ice, looking at him. She realised he had been looking at her this whole time and the faint crimson of his cheeks made something inside of her giddy. She didn’t smile though. She knew she liked him, he didn’t need to know that.

“How are you doing?” She asked nonchalantly. 

“Good. Busy,” He walked with her, “What abou’ ye?”

“I’m officially retired,” She couldn’t help but grin at that word. “I’m an old woman now.”

“Aye, twenty-five is sae old,” He looked at her, smiling, “I would have winked right now but I dinna want ye to make fun of me again.”

“That sounds so unlike me, I don’t even know wot you’re talking about,” She didn’t notice he had stopped walking then.

“Claire…”

She turned around and stopped. She didn’t like his tone. Not one bit. Eventually, she knew they had to talk about it at some point, “Yes?”

“I want ye to know I’m sorry about what happened in Milan,” He took a step closer to her, his eyes not once leaving hers. She saw so much honesty in them, she almost wept.

“Truly, I am. Not that I believe a simple word could make ye forgive me but I hope ye ken I didn’t hurt ye on purpose…I  would never do that. She kissed me and I shouldna have let her but I wasna thinkin’ and ye have all the rights to hate me for it –”

“I don’t hate you,” She admitted. It was true, she never had. And most likely never will. No matter how hard she tried.

“I was just surprised to see you not only there but with another woman. After what happened between us in London, I really thought…” She let her sentence die, she didn’t know what she had thought. Something stupidly romantic, probably.  

“I don’t know what I thought but anyway, it’s been a while now and I’ve moved on,” She touched his arm in a friendly gesture.  

_That was a lie._  And a big fat one. The number of times she had rehearsed what she would say to him if they ever had this conversation. She thought about screaming at him. Being passive and not even looking at him. She was sure she’d play it cool. She had been wrong. But it was a relief to finally letting go of that anger eating away at her for the past year.

“And in retrospect, it wouldn’t have been the right time to start a relationship,” He nodded at that and she continued,” But please, don’t think I hate you.”

“Thank ye, Sassenach,” He smiled softly, touching her cheek. “For no’ hatin’ me.” 

There it was again. The tingle on her lips and the terrible need to kiss him. The air was so crisp, it felt like it burned her skin as the wind hit it. They were standing in the middle of the park, close together and eyes locked. Even Claire could admit it was a perfectly cliché situation for some retrouvailles and a kiss.

Instead of leaning up to seal their lips, she took a step back. She noted the slight confusion passing through his eyes as she did so and he cleared his throat, “Are ye still up for the exhibition then?”

“Of course,” She smiled and he relaxed. “If you’re not afraid of me asking you a million questions about the pictures or photography in general.”

“I’m no’, if ye’re no’ afraid of me rambling abou’ it,” He smiled, holding out his hand to her.

She took his hand and together, they started walking again.

“What are you goin’ to do now that ye’re done wi’ modelling?”

“I have enrolled at university to study literature and I’ll focus on that for now and then I can see myself finally working in a publishing house or even write a book, who knows,” She explained, looking around. 

“Ye seem to have it all figured out,” He smiled, looking at her. She was unaware of the fact Jamie wasn’t paying attention to the gorgeous scenery around them. He completely didn’t care for it. He was too busy watching her.

“You could say that,” She chuckled softly, “For once, at least, I guess I do.”

“Aye, ye have and ‘tis sounds like a verra good plan.”

“Mmh,” She answered absently, her eyes still wandering and locked their arms.

“And which university are ye attending? NYU? Colombia?”

“Goldsmith –”

“In London?” He looked at her surprised. She could tell by the way he sounded it how delighted he was. She almost heard his own heart skip, too. Actually, she was sure she did.  

“Yes, London,” She finally looked at him and smiled.

“I told you I wouldn’t live in New York forever and modelling was the only thing keeping me there since that’s over, I’m going back home.”

“Yer accent is goin’ to get posher…” His eyebrow flicked up in amusement.

She nudged him, grinning, “Yes and? I will finally pronounce water properly again.”

“Ye dinna like to say  _waahter_?” He took a sort of valley girl accent and it made her burst into a laugh.

“I never pronounced it up to that point, I lived in New York, not Los Angeles!”

“‘Tis true I’m just messin’ wi’ ye.”

“Great American impersonation, I’m sure they’ll be flattered,” She winked, smirking.

_Click._

“Jamie!”

“‘Tis just a reflex,” He put his camera away, trying not to laugh.

Claire rolled her eyes, smiling. They were close to the Grand Palais and she was glad. Not only she was truly starting to get cold. If they’d stay too long in such scenery, she would most likely cave in and kiss him. Kiss him for all she was. And all she wanted with him. 

Neither one of them commented as they made their way onto Pont des Arts. Where lovers, young and old, deposited padlock after padlock to seal their love before throwing the key into the Seine. No, not a word about it. Instead, Jamie took another picture of her again, without warning. She laughed, shook her head and called him a bloody scot.

He didn’t stop. The more she laughed, the more pictures he took and the more pictures he took, the more she laughed. With her curls all over her face due to the wind, she was sure she looked a mess. He knew she looked like a masterpiece. Far better than any piece of art scattered around the numerous museum in Paris.

They spend all day together. Just walking around and talking about arts. Claire quickly learnt that Jamie wasn't’ just an artist. He knew the history of his craft like the back of his hand. He delighted her in tales about various photographers and other anecdotes.

 

> _“Helmut Newton actually died crashin’ his car at the Chateau Marmont – ”_
> 
> _“I knew that,” She grinned, “It’s far more of a pop culture reference than one only reserved for photographers. Actually, that’s one of the first things you hear whenever you step foot at the Chateau. They are actually proud of it, which is really bad. But I guess it gives them a certain cult status.”_
> 
> _“Aye but ye were no’ supposed to ken that,” He sighed, looking at her in defeat, “Usually it impresses everyone that I ken such a fact.”_
> 
> _“Fine, let’s pretend I didn’t know that before you said it,” She took a bite of the waffle they had purchased after coming out of the Grand Palais._
> 
> _“Who’s yer favourite photographer, Sassenach? Do ye have any?”_
> 
> _“It’s not you if that’s what you were wondering,” Of course it was him but he didn’t need to know that either._
> 
> _He laughed, “Tell me who it is before I start cryin’”_
> 
> _“It’s Lee Miller,” She smiled, “I love that she started as a model. As a muse and then eventually made her mark on the photography world with such an important body of work. I also very much love the fact she was a badass. She was far better than Man Ray and yet, people still refer to her as his key model.”_
> 
> _“I canna fault ye there. He wasna even the one who invented solarisation, it was her,” He took the waffle from her and took a bite._
> 
> _“Really?”_
> 
> _“Aye, she was developpin’ some film when a rat ran over her foot and she turned on the white light – which ye’re no’ suppose to do,” He grinned, “Panicked, Man Ray grabbed the negatives and plunged them into the fixer immediately. When they came out, they were solarised.”_
> 
> _“Oh look, another case of the man takes credit for the woman’s work,” Claire rolled her eyes._
> 
> _“Or mistake,” He wiggled his eyebrows._
> 
> _“Don’t go there,” Smirking, she finished the waffle, “You get my point.”_
> 
> _“Aye,” He chuckled, “I do, Sassenach.”_
> 
> _“I’m no’ surprised ye like her work, she was an unusual lady –”_
> 
> _“For sure. Her full name was Elizabeth,” She grinned, “That’s my middle name.”_
> 
> _“Weel, ye’re an unusual lady too.”_

In the evening, they had dinner in a little bistro in Le Marais. A place only reserved for locals, Jamie had assured her. They shared a bottle of white wine and a plate of oysters. They also shared a mutual want to kiss but neither of them knew that about the other.

After some _baba au rhum_  for dessert, they walked towards her hotel, arms still linked. Claire rested her head on his shoulder at some point, as it was getting heavy with the abundance of wine she had consumed during dinner.

“Well,” She stopped in front of the hotel,  “As they say, that’s my cue.”

Jamie’s mouth curled up into a smile, “Thank ye for spendin’ the day wi’ me, Sassenach. It was far better than if I had spent it alone.”

“I guess I’ll see you around in London,” She said softly, looking at him. 

“Have a good night, Sassenach,” He cupped her cheek and she melted into his touch. She was tipsy. Either on him or the wine. It didn’t matter.

“Goodnight,” She booped his nose before leaning up to kiss him. She was going for the lips. Her own burn for it but at the last second, she kissed his cheek instead.

Jamie smiled, stroking a stay curl behind her ear, “I’ll see ye soon.”

“Maybe I’ll let you kiss me next time,” She whispered, her face barely an inch from his. 

“Aye ye will –”

“I said  _maybe_ ,” She grinned and turned around to go in the hotel. She waved her hand in the air before stepping inside. She heard his laugh. A deep and earthy one. She knew she’d let him kiss her next time.

*********

_Claire was almost late._

Not that it was unusual for her but it wasn’t the most practical thing to be just now.  She didn’t know by what sort of miracle she arrived at Gare du Nord in time and she didn’t have time to dwell on it as she hurried inside towards the terminal. She cursed her too big suitcase more time than she cared to count. She thanked herself for opting for wearing a pair of sneakers and not the cute Céline boots she had purchased a few days ago that would have made it impossible for her to reach the check-ins area right before the door closed.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” She mumbled, making her way towards the train.

The little unsocial person she liked to be turned on the music into her ear pods and she pretty much-ignored everything around her. From the teenagers running on the platform to some parents yelling on their kids for them to listen.

Claire glanced quickly at her ticket to see which wagon she was sitting in and of course, had to turn around and go in the other direction instead of the one she was currently going toward.

_It happened every time._

She carried her suitcase inside. Wondered why she brought so many clothes when she was aware she spent her time rotating the three same outfits and rolled her eyes at her own impracticality. She slid it in the compartment specifically made for it and glanced at her ticket one more time to check her seat number.

_56._

It seemed a good number for a two-hour long nap before finally going home. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone. At the very least, she had headphones. And the first class wasn’t crowded.

She walked towards her seat, carefully looking at the numbers to make sure she didn't’ miss it. The closer she came to the number 56, the more her eyes caught on a mop of red hair. And when Claire finally reached her seat, James Fraser was sitting at number 55. 

Looking up, he saw her and his mouth curled up into a broad grin, “Sassenach.”

She didn’t hear that because of the blasting 90s hip hop in her ears but she knew exactly what he had called her. Claire quickly removed her headphones and grinned, “You, again.”

“Aye, it seems so,” His smug grin was irresistible. Not that she tried to resist, anyway.

Claire chuckled, removing her jacket and stuffed it in the head compartment before looking at him, “I’ll need you to get up so I can sit by the window.”

“Och, sure,” Jamie got up and moved slightly so she could pass.

She squeezed herself between the seat in front of him and his toned body. She looked up at him, smirking, “You could have moved aside.”

“Why? Can ye no’ pass?” He asked innocently, looking down at her.

She shook her head, smirking and pushed him so he’d sit down again. Except she miscalculated her move and fell onto his lap by the same occasion.

“Are ye proud of ye now, Sassenach? The seat by the window is still empty – “

“Piss off, yes?” She cupped his cheeks and pulled his face closer to hers. Her lips were merely an inch from hers and she could feel his warm breath tickling her skin.

Jamie swallowed, his eyes locking with hers. He whispered, breath warm against her skin, “Ye said next time ye’ll let me kiss ye.”

“I said maybe,” She smirked, rubbing her nose against his.

“What if I just do it, Sassenach?” 

“I appreciate the sentiment behind this but for full effect, you’re not supposed to warn me if you’re planning to –”

Jamie cut her off. His lips brushing against hers like a gentle wave reaching the shore. She melted into him, like sand, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lips overlapping his. Tasting their familiarity. Their warmth. Remembering how the Scot made her feel. 

Claire didn’t think she noticed the train start. Nor did she care.

_**The end.** _


End file.
